


The Last Three Years

by mywordsflyup



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, mentions of leandra's death, this turned out a lot more angsty and depressing than i thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/pseuds/mywordsflyup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before everything falls to pieces, Anders and Hawke have three years. The time they spend together is not always perfect. But it's theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Three Years

**I.**  
That first year is heaven. 

Long kisses, deep sighs, some part of them always touching. They spend a lot of time in bed – making up for lost time. After three years of yearning, of imagining, they take time to explore, to memorize. After three years of avoiding each other's touch, they now constantly find themselves interlacing their fingers or stroking each other's hair. Sometimes they hold hands underneath the table when they meet the others at the Hanged Man. Aveline pretends not to notice but Isabela is less discreet. After a while, they don't hide it anymore. 

When he is not with her, he is at his clinic. In the early hours of the morning, he crawls into her bed, limps stiff from working through the night. She warms his cold fingers in her hands while he drifts off to sleep. He is always cold those days. She likes to remember him like this, later. Her Anders sleeping next to her. All the worry gone from his face. No Justice, no apostate, no revolutionary. Just Anders.   
“How much is left then?” he asks.   
_Enough_ , she thinks. 

She remembers other moments as well. Anders pressing her against one of the walls of the clinic. His breath hot on her neck. His hands feverishly working on the straps of her robe. Too many layers, too much fabric between them. There is something desperate in their kisses during those first few months. They are scared but neither can really say why. Afterwards, when they gather up their clothes from the clinic floor, they share a timid smile. Embarrassed, almost. 

Even in the dark days, right after her mother's death, Anders is there. They do not talk much. There isn't much to say. But he carries her into the bath and washes her gently. He cleans the blood from underneath her fingernails and untangles her hair. After carrying her back to bed, he stays awake and rocks her back to sleep when the nightmares get bad. Curiously, he is the first to make her laugh again after almost two weeks of darkness. As he chases the manifesto-chewing dog through the house, he suddenly hears her laugh, sharp as a bell. He looks up and finds her standing on the stairs, one hand clasped over mouth in surprise. The tears come after that and he is there for those as well. 

 

**II.**  
The second year starts with their first big fight. They cannot really tell what exactly causes Anders to miss two young mages who sought his help after fleeing from the Circle. Perhaps it was Hawke who misplaced their letter. Or perhaps it was Anders who overslept after working through the night. All they know is that it ends with two captured mages. And with Hawke and Anders yelling at each other. When she starts crying, he storms out. He does not come home that night. Although he doesn't say it out loud then, she remembers his words from a year ago. Justice believes you are a distraction.

After that, he starts working even longer hours. Takes even more risks than before. She starts helping him in his efforts to smuggle mages out of the city. Part of it is because she believes in the cause and because the situation at the Circle is getting worse by the day. But she also wants to keep an eye on him. He becomes less and less careful but she would kill a thousand Templars if it meant keeping him safe. 

He still crawls into bed after a long night at the clinic. She stills warms his fingers in her hands and watches him fall asleep. But now those fine worry lines stay on his face sometimes. He looks tired even when he is asleep. She worries, too. About the dark circles underneath his eyes and about the weight he lost. Sometimes he gets up in the middle of the night and starts working on his manifesto. She watches him from the shadows of the bed – hunched over his desk with just a candle for light.

Thank the Maker for Varric and his talent for coaxing even the most unwilling out of their shell. She rarely sees Anders as relaxed as he is during their evenings at the Hanged Man. Justice doesn't let him get drunk anymore but Hawke can see him visibly relaxing after a few drinks. His face becomes more animated and he uses elaborate gestures when he tells his stories. Even the unexpectedly crass humor she fell in love with years ago resurfaces until her sides hurt from laughing. She never talks to Varric about it but she is more grateful than he could ever imagine. She remembers that Varric was not always happy with her decision to be with Anders but now she finds him at the clinic every so often. While Anders treats his patients, Varric distracts them from the pain with wild stories of Hawke's adventures. She watches them from the door sometimes. Anders focused but with an amused smile on his lips as Varric's booming voice fills the room with images of dragons and daring sword fights. 

 

**III.**  
The secrecy doesn't start until their third year. 

The situation in the city becomes more dire than ever. Darktown is still flooded with refugees and every day more mages seek shelter and aid after fleeing the Circle. Strange mages from outside Kirkwall arrive late at night with the same look of determination in their eyes that Hawke sees in Anders. When she asks him about it, he evades the question. He starts smuggling people into the city rather than out. He doesn't ask her to come along. 

Long nights start becoming longer when he stops coming home altogether. She lies awake, staring at the empty space next to her where he used to be. She lets the dog sleep in their bed just out of spite. Perhaps also a little bit because she doesn't know how to sleep in an empty bed anymore. So she finally clears out the giant spiders that have nested in the secret passage between Darktown and Hawke Estate and gets Anders a key so it's easier for him to come home to her. And at least now she knows he has an escape route should he ever need one. Even if he won't let her protect him anymore. 

She won't sit at home like a sad housewife waiting for her man to come home. Instead she keeps busy, taking on jobs and running her own missions. Her friends don't say anything as she flings herself into every battle. Spells whirring through the air, the clangor of blades. Until her skin glistens with sweat and her body is covered with her enemies' blood. Her friends keep silent as she downs another drink at the tavern. And another. If he is not coming home, why should she? 

Six months before everything ends, he vanishes for three days. On the second day she can taste the panic like acid in her mouth as she hurries to the Gallows. But he is not there and her fear turns to rage. When he finally returns, late at night with dust on his boots, she screams at him until her throat is sore. And just when she thinks she cannot do it anymore, he kisses her and carries her to bed like he used to. He looks about as tired as she feels but he smiles at her the way she remembers. And when he takes off her shirt all the twisted knots inside of her just melt away somehow. 

Everything is different after that. For a while at least. He still works too much but he comes home at night, through the tunnels underneath the house. When he crawls into bed he lets her warm his ice-cold fingers. He still looks tired but relieved. As if a heavy burden has finally been lifted from his shoulders. She watches him as he laughs with Varric at the tavern. One time he even manages to make Fenris smile. She can't help but be suspicious and he will not tell her what he did during those three lost days. But seeing him like this... She cannot deny herself this happiness, even though she knows it won't last. 

He loves her with a fervor as if every time was the last time. Later, after everything, she understands. But when he kisses her like that she cannot think. Only drown.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Better to have loved](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479354) by [sightsoblind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sightsoblind/pseuds/sightsoblind)




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